;
On a pale coldwinter’s nightthe tents sleepbitter in mouthand heart.With subdued soundrunning after an escaping sun,they remove their morning dressoff bodiespatched with jokesand painful laughter.The…
Omnia Amin
This is methat little girl in pomegranate clotheskneeling at the door of a burning tentcrawling over fireSmearing my faceCovered in dust from the rubbleGathered in my palm the remnants of a dry loaf,i…
I have two feet, for walking the streets, on the beach, for running madly with my friends, and into my lover’s arms when we meetNot for running away from death . . . every day.I have fingers, for feel…
Maher Naji, Christ Has Not Yet Descended from the Cross / Courtesy of the artist Years and years ago, I was small, very small. I was one of the children of the world who were born…
Motaz Azaiza / Courtesy of the artist My Sixteen-Year-Old Mother What is my eightysomething mother doing under these conditions? She watches the situation behind the glass Once the rain st…
Reem Khader, and she prevails / Courtesy of the artist (Everything here is reported by the young man who found the bottle.) This small light-emitting machine is currently s…
Imad Abu Shtayyah, Rise Up / Courtesy of the artist Maybe this very morning is suitable for forgetting you and forgetting once and for all your flowers and gardens Maybe this doo…
